Married (22 page)

“It’s not too late, Constance. Your betrothal wasn’t sealed in blood and Daniel has a lot of affection for you. You could easily get him to rethink the matter.”

“Graves has a lot of affection for me, too. Are you jealous?” Her voice slid into a purr. “Do you wish you were marrying me? I’d happily throw Graves over for you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Madeleine would never agree to a marriage between us.” Adam struggled to keep his voice neutral. “I just don’t want you to get hurt and Graves likes to hurt people.”

Constance’s porcelain skin flushed violently. “I can take care of myself.”

Once again, Adam squeezed her fingers. “Can you?”

“Of course I can! Not that
you
would be so concerned, but Graves will be a perfectly acceptable husband.”

“Then why are you doing your best to get your hands in my pants, here at the table?”

Constance immediately went soft and pliant. “I like you. I want to be with you, Adam. Marriage is for politics and power, but lovers are for…love.”

Her tone was patently false, sending him straight over the edge. Adam had had enough. Diplomacy be damned, he wasn’t about to spend another minute arguing while keeping the woman’s hand from his dick. Not with Tulah across the table looking as if she would burst into tears at any moment as Charles leaned too damned close to her. Not while Georgie’s tension was increasing by the minute and Adam couldn’t figure out why. Not when all he wanted to do was leap out of his chair and fucking
swim
back to New Hampshire, if he must.

“Bullshit, baby doll.” His lips barely moved as he snarled in Constance’s face. “Don’t ever fucking assume that I’m an idiot. I know you’re nothing in your Family and I know you want what I’ve got.”

“Adam, darling, no—” Her eyes were wide, suspiciously damp.

“You think I don’t know you attached yourself to my dick in Poland with the hopes of being dragged into Davenold greatness? You think you’re the first woman who’s ever tried such a thing?”

Before she could regain her tongue and answer his rhetorical question, before Adam really could jump out of his chair and remove himself from the festivities, Graves’ voice slid through the air like a cold blade. “Where is your East African whore, Muso? What happened to the Njele cunt?”

All conversation, in every part of the room, died a sudden death. Everyone at the head table, with the sole exception of Graves, went bolt upright in their seats. Collectively, they held their breath. Warner looked constipated. Georgie reached out to clutch the hem of Adam’s dinner jacket below the tabletop.

The Family Father spoke slowly, clearly and firmly. “My wife will be given proper respect, Graves.”

“Not if she doesn’t deserve it, though, right? I mean, she’d spread her thighs before coming to your bed, bearing a child with a man not her husband.” Graves grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Unless the child was part of the deal.”

Next to him, Georgie closed her eyes and tightened her fingers in Adam’s coat. The rest of the room was an utter wasteland of noise, nothing and no one moved.

Muso gripped his cutlery in both hands, hard enough to whiten his knuckles. “Is that what you would have done? Focused on your stepchild the way you focused on your father-in-law? Is that what your poor wife has to look forward to?”

“Oh-ho!” Graves tossed his napkin on his plate. “Now she’s a poor woman! Do you pity her, Muso, the way you pity
your
wife?”

“I did as all Fathers must, and married for the good of my Family.” Muso’s voice shook with the effort of keeping it level. “Something I’m well aware you will never understand.”

“You married a worthless Njele,” Graves sneered. “I’ll marry a Levy, and we’ll see who comes out on top.”

“Warner will!” Muso slammed his fork on the table. Adam noted the Father continued to hold his steak knife. “Isn’t that your arrangement? You’re the bottom?”

“Oh, dear Goddess,” Georgie whispered. “I don’t know how to stop this.”

Adam shook his head. “Don’t look at me. For all I care they could go to war right here and now. It’s a great excuse to get the fuck out and go home.”

“I enjoy my lovers in a variety of positions,” Graves crooned. “Power comes from many seemingly innocent sources.”

Muso’s face drained of color. Unmistakable fear filled his eyes as they cut toward the other table. Adam followed his gaze and saw Silviu, sitting impassively. Deceptive—he knew the Lovasz man was coiled tight and ready to spring into action.

Muso drew a hard breath. “Your past is a cesspool you’ve dragged your Family through.”

Graves only smiled. “You’re one to talk. Just look at Tulah, dragged into this whole thing so you could have pussy on demand in our all-male household. No wonder you didn’t bring your wife.”

The Father glanced in her direction with an angry scowl. “Tulah is my niece, damn you! Unlike you, I don’t prey on my Family members.”

“Let’s stop the fucking lies, shall we?” Graves shook off Warner’s restraining hand. “You wondered if Tulah’s cunt lived up to all the dirty fantasies you’ve had of her over the years.”

“You are beyond disgusting,” Muso thundered. “I requested her presence to make certain you hadn’t sold her to the lowest bidder.”

“Or to take her for yourself. Why else would you have let her be all these years, unless you were waiting for her to grow up?” Graves waved toward the mute woman in question. “I’ll be happy to give her to you for your use while in residence. Hospitality demands I share my pet.”

Muso’s eyes nearly bulged from his skull. “Have you no decency? Good God! I am giving her to Charles, not taking her for my mistress!”

“Trying to buy him from my side?” Graves sneered.

“I won’t have him.” Tulah’s strained voice was barely audible.

“You will do as you’re told,” Muso snapped.

To Adam’s complete shock, Tulah jumped to her feet. The color was high on her cheeks as she boldly faced the men, her chest working hard to find oxygen, her caramel eyes glittering with undiluted anger and fierce determination. Gasps rang through the patriarchal crowd as a lowly female challenged her male superiors. “I will not be used by either of you!”

“You dare to speak, pet?” Grave stood up, his expression hardening.

“
Yes, I dare
,” Tulah screamed. “I have had enough of being used like a pawn on a warped chessboard. I’m sick of you and everything you are.” She spun toward Muso, lifting her chin. “And you, gone so long, not giving a
fuck
about me and my mother! Too wrapped up in your own weakness, sulking for a decade. You think you can come here and order me to fuck Charles!”

“You will mind your damned tongue!” Muso barked.

“No, I won’t! And I will not screw the man that held my father down while Graves ripped the branch’s power out of him and killed him! Just like Jerin.”

Muso froze. “What?”

“Isn’t that why you stayed away?” she sneered. “Worried it would happen to you so you left and—”

“
You will explain, Tulah
!” Muso’s chest heaved.

“He doesn’t need a fucking explanation, pet.”

“You take what you want no matter what dark spells you must weave to get it.” Tulah ignored Graves’ warning as she pointed an accusing finger at him. Then she whirled on Muso. “
He robbed my father of his power, of his life!
My mother told me to keep my anger in check so he wouldn’t kill me, but I don’t care what the hell any of you do to me. Death is preferable to being in this Family.”

“Tulah—” Muso tried again.

“I hate you all. You make me sick and I would rather be dead than be thought of as one of you.”

Charles leaped to his feet, reaching for her. Quick as a cat, Tulah lashed out at him with her fork and danced away. Adam found himself on his feet, too. Through the rushing in his ears, he heard Daniel yelling for them all to calm down.

“You little bitch!” Graves raced around the table after her. “Fucking whore!”

“All for the power you were denied,” she screamed in his face. “Look around you, at your dying Family. Look around and see the truth, no matter how much magic you take, power has still passed you by. Look at how Muso gave your rights away to some distant cousin in Canada, rather than facing you like a man and taking you down like the rabid dog you are. You’re both—”

Graves slapped the words out of Tulah’s mouth. Adam pushed Georgie’s hand off his coat and circled the table at top speed. Eliasz and Silviu were also on their feet, but everything was happening too fast. Tulah’s words were tumbling over themselves, Graves’ insults slicing through them. Less than a minute had passed since she’d left her chair, not enough time for the audience to gather their wits.

Graves hit Tulah again. She laughed even as blood poured over her lip. “You’re so fucking stupid, Graves. Weak for all your stolen magic.”

He flinched, growled, his fingers twitched. Georgie sucked in oxygen. Ileana screamed. Daniel commanded
someone
to stop.

Adam felt the weight of the spell a split second later. Power crushed the air to the floor. An icy blast rushed past him as he came up behind Tulah, determined to keep Graves from striking her again. The spell slammed directly into her skinny, vulnerable body. She arched, jerking like a puppet on a string as ruby light exploded around her. Adam heard her gurgle, saw her muscles ripple and knot. She dropped to the ground.

Adam dove, catching her just before she hit the floor. Silviu was already at his side, screaming at Georgie to step away. Chaos bounced around the room like a playful puppy, suddenly unlocked voices joining the chorus of insults, screams and threats. Ngozis went to war against themselves.

Adam hefted Tulah’s lax body. Silviu pointed toward the door. “Take her. I’ll get your Family out of here.”

Never looking back, trusting Silviu to watch over the Davenold women without hesitation, Adam ran from the ballroom.

Chapter Nineteen

Georgeanne

Georgeanne flinched as Muso launched himself at Graves with an inhuman screech. Silver swirls filled his lifted palms, tiny bolts of lightning arced toward his rival. Graves hefted his walking stick and swung. Muso jumped back, the massive emerald at the tip a hair’s breadth from his belly.

Daniel yelled, “Graves! Stop!”

The emerald blazed with green fire. Graves’ eyes blazed with the unholy light of murder. He was dangerously strong, filled with magic. Muso snarled and danced forward, silver balls erupting from his fingertips. Red light exploded around Graves’ body and rolled out, sweeping Charles off his feet.

Muso still stood, legs braced. The combined power of his Family’s bloodline was his to command, but Georgie feared it was outmatched by Graves’ personal magic.

“I will kill you, whoreson!”

Silver light tinged with red snapped and cracked over the crisp white tablecloth. Tension infused Georgie, heated pressure coasted over her skin. She dodged as a plate sailed past her ear.

“My mother is your mother, you stupid bastard.”

A roll of ice swept over the crowd with no control. A swell of heat immediately followed. Screams rang out, chairs slid against the floor. The scent of burnt hair filled Georgie’s nose.

“Move, Georgeanne, get back. Back!”

A hard hand gripped her shoulder, throwing her off balance as another blast of ice sailed past her senses. Silviu. A flare of gold blinded her, a surge of power whipped her spine. She spun away, eyes flicking over the ballroom, a frustrated knot of impotence writhing within her chest.

“Graves! Damn it, man, stop this at once!”

Daniel kept repeating himself. He’d said the same thing over and over, until Georgie was vaguely surprised that he hadn’t gone hoarse. But only vaguely, because the refrain barely penetrated the surrealism wrapping her senses. Daniel was barely heard over the screams of the other diners.

Everything happened too fast. Graves and Muso, Tulah jumping to her feet. Georgie felt real fear when Adam surged to his and rounded the table. He was involving himself in a Family drama that was not their own.

Georgie tried to help. She saw the fierce silver magic barrel toward the Ngozi woman—toward Adam standing directly behind her—and protective instincts reared up, snarling in Georgie’s soul. She’d been on Adam’s heels until Silviu pushed her back with a hard command.

A command she found herself obeying without thought, before she remembered that
she
was the Davenold heir and obeyed no man. Ever. Not even Silviu.

She’d stepped back just as Muso raised a hand and hot silver wind shot past her. It brushed her shoulder but her imperviousness immediately answered the call. The magic slid against the shield, bent sideways, angled toward Silviu. He twitched a finger and the magic died, snuffed out against the greater force of his Reap strength.

Around her, the room spun. People were on their feet, some rushing closer to the fight, others stampeding toward the door. Ngozis rolled on the floor, silver light sparking as they turned on each other, battling their cousins in support of their leaders.

The atmosphere was hard to breathe, too warm in turns, then too cold. Georgie’s focus had narrowed down to the two Ngozi leaders, nothing else made any sort of impression on her senses. The edges of the room dimmed.

Graves threw himself at Muso. The older man jerked back, lost his balance. He went down and Graves covered him like a blanket. Muso muttered until the air distorted. Graves lifted up, launching backward. He slammed into the table, slid across the cloth. A table leg buckled and the surface pitched, throwing Graves to the floor.

“Graves, stop it! Now!”

Daniel again, rushing forward. Georgie could see his hesitation. He had weak magic, wouldn’t want to get between the Ngozi witches. Behind him, Anne and Warner held hands, a faint pulse of gold between them, shielding Constance as she cringed back against another table—a table protected by the bright bubble of Christiana’s protective spell, where Madeleine sat with her hand at her chest and Margaret fanned her sister with a linen napkin. Ileana held Madeleine’s shoulder while Eliasz moved in behind Silviu, whose gestures left tracers of golden light in the middle of a field of silver. He was moving his whole arm so Georgie knew he was casting complicated spells.